


We've only just begun

by Chaotic_heart



Series: We've Only Just Begun - Aidean love prompts [1]
Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, RPF, aidan is clumsy, aidan is confused, aidan is curious, dean is dumbsy, dean is new, m/m romance, richard is acting weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:23:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaotic_heart/pseuds/Chaotic_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is new to The Hobbit set and both Richard and Aidan have taken an interest in him. Aidan isn't entirely sure what sort of interest he's taken, except he thinks Dean's adorable and that's something he never thinks about other men. As for Richard, he's acting out of character and Aidan is finding the situation both confusing and concerning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The one where Aidan is confused or concerned or.. something

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Aidean fic and only 2nd in the fandom. So um... be gentle maybe? Lol. I wrote this for my LJ Prompt table "Lovers 100 challenge" here -->http://chaotic-heart66.livejournal.com/32746.html prompt word BEGINNINGS. Thank you to my lovely ML for her beta-ing awesomeness.
> 
> I'm working from a basic prompt table which is just words, but I'd love to have some actual prompts if anyone is interested in helping me with that. :)
> 
> Reviews are greatly appreciated.
> 
> *title is from the old Carpenters' song of the same name

+*+*+*+

Aidan swiveled his body to the left, casually checking out the new guy as he tried to shove his too-snug helmet onto his head. The bloody things obviously weren't big enough to contain a _man-bun_ , and though Aidan didn't necessarily appreciate the word, after he'd been subjected to it a few dozen times it had grown on him. 

_Dean O'Gorman_. Aidan had heard of him, of course. You didn't spend any time in New Zealand—or even plan on spending many months there—without hearing of the show _The Almighty Johnsons_. Plus being the curious bloke he was, Aidan had done some extra research when the cast had been informed of the new hiring. Despite his friendly, devil-may-care attitude and reputation of being more than a little flighty—bloody hell, if he heard the phrase _Eternal Ray of Sunshine_ attached to him one more time— he still liked to be prepared so there were no surprises or unusual circumstances that might throw him off his game.

He'd watched a few episodes of Dean's show and though he did find it entertaining both in concept and plot, Dean's character was an arse of immeasurable proportions. Having played a less-than-perfect vampire himself, Aidan didn't generally judge a man by his characters. And despite taking a dislike to Dean's _Anders_ , Aidan had felt tiny stirrings of lust to the real thing both on the show and in interviews he'd scoped out on _YouTube_. Yes, Aidan did like to do his homework.

Dean had a very interesting collection of credits, too; _arsehole_ God of Poetry, Hercules' sidekick and two gay roles, one that was brilliantly steamy and cheeky. Very interesting offerings indeed. The interviews had only assured Aidan that he liked what he saw. And on a random note, something Aidan was immensely known for, he'd decided during his research that he really needed a role as a detective since he appeared to be predisposed to excelling at it. Of course that was neither here nor there.

From a distance Dean's wide smile and wild gestures made him appear to be a friendly fella, perhaps a little maniac in his shifting to and fro but that was understandable given the circumstances. Aidan had never walked into a situation—a role—like Dean was having to do. It couldn't be easy when someone else had previously held the part and now the other castmates were already familiar with each other and the production. It also probably didn't help that Dean's first day found him having to participate in one of the grueling dwarven boot camp sessions. He did appear to still be congenial enough thought as he headed towards Aidan. 

Aidan quickly ducked his head, unwittingly banging his fitting-like-crap helmet against Richard's head. "New guy, eh?" Richard said leaning in close to Aidan. "A tad tiny for the rest of his kin."

After huffing out a laugh but quickly stifling it, Aidan bumped Richard with his hip. "That's not very accommodating, Armitage. You're just jealous 'cause he's prettier than you."

"Ah, Turner. You have no idea how pretty I really am... and you'll never get a chance to find out. Pity, since you're mildly attractive yourself."

Aidan didn't bother suppressing his belly chuckle that time, its shrillness bouncing off the walls of the large gymnasium. "You're not my type anyhow but nice try... bloody arse."

Richard rubbed his hands over his thighs, leaning over and looking up at Aidan with a cocky grin. "Like petite blonds, do ya?"

"Fuck off."

"Hey. I'm Dean." 

Richard and Aidan looked up quickly, identical grins plastered on their wide-eyed faces. Aidan hoped like hell he didn't look as guilty as Richard did. Then in an usual turn of events, Richard stammered and stumbled over his words, a momentary darkness clouding his eyes, before he offered Dean a gloved hand. 

"I'm um... Richard... yes, and this lovely lady is Aidan." Aidan hip checked him again but kept smiling until it was his turn to squeeze Dean's soft hand between his own. 

Dean had a brilliant smile and blue eyes that rivaled the great Armitage himself. He was definitely of smaller stature than the rest of the dwarven crew but Aidan had already known that from his research. In person Dean was even slighter than he'd expected, but _petite_ wasn't the word that came to Aidan's mind at all, more like compactly dead gorgeous. He was sure the fat suits and conditioning would beef up the Kiwi so he'd appear no slighter than the rest of the company.

Dean's grin grew wider and Aidan's mind wandered to just how far he could stick his fingers or his tongue into those sexy dimples. He'd never considered a man to be cute or adorable before, at least not one he'd been attracted to, but Dean certainly fit the in a _wanna-fuck-you-because-you're-so-bloody-adorable_ kind of way. Adian usually went for the sexy and gorgeous but the longer he looked at Dean, the more Aidan decided he might just fit into all those categories.

Richard must have recovered from his momentary bout of dementia as he not-so-gently poked his elbow into Aidan's ribs. Aidan winced, the sharp pain bringing him back into his head and staring blankly into Dean's gaze. Dean cocked an eyebrow at him and appeared to be waiting for an answer that Aidan didn't know the question to.

"Sorry? Did you say something? I think this bloody helmet is too tight." Feeling the burn of embarrassment at being caught looking, Aidan attempted to thread his fingers through his hair, but only managed to stub them on the helmet and have his hand fall right back to his side. He didn't think he could have acted more awkward or mental if he tried.

"No problem. Just said you mates were my family." Aidan blinked in awe as Dean's full lips moved. "You know? Brother Kili and Uncle Thorin?" 

Aidan laughed uncomfortably then nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Dwarfs of a feather and all that stuff."

Richard elbowed him again before shaking his head. "Welcome to the Durin heirs, _Fili_." He did a little bow, forcing Aidan to roll his eyes and Dean chuckle behind his hand. "Thorin Oakenshield, at your service."

"You wankers gonna join the party or just stand there looking pretty all day?" James' voice boomed from across the room. Pretty had become a theme between the newly-formed dwarf company, probably since most of them were anything but—in Aidan's humble opinion at least. 

Dean waved a small greeting at James then turned back to Aidan. "Peter said you could hook me up with one of those choice helmets. Feels like I'm stumbling into a mountain climbing expedition, not dwarven battle, eh."

"I can help you," a voice from the side offered. Adam popped his head into the middle of the group then held out his hand to Dean. There was an obvious twinkle in his eye as he adjusted his own helmet. "I'm Adam or I guess you'll come to know me as Ori... at your service." He bowed and Aidan rolled his eyes… again. 

They were certainly a cheeky bunch of bastards he was working with but they were also very accepting and supportive despite all their foolish antics. Usually Aidan would've joined in on the fun, but Aidan's eternal sunshiny mood had abandoned him and he felt an uncomfortable ache in his belly. He pushed the feeling away when Richard leaned into and tapped his fingers over Aidan's arm. 

"Mind your manners, Kili. Your mouth's hanging open. I was only kidding about the blond thing... or was I?"

Aidan shook his head, batting Richard's hand off his arm before following Dean and Adam to the middle of the room where the rest of the men stood. Richard was usually the quiet mannerly one of the group so Aidan was fiercely curious about his behavior. It was even more unsettling when Richard sidled up to Dean and smiled at him in a kind of familiar way that Aidan found just as shocking as it was curious. Dean seemed to return the grin, too, but with a slight tilt of his head that made Aidan wonder what he was thinking.

It was true that Richard's sexual preferences were more of a mystery than anyone else's in their collective company and Aidan couldn't ever remember having a conversation about either women or men with him as he had the rest of the cast. Until Dean walked in the room, Richard had never made a comment about anyone's preferences or seemed remotely interested in talking about the actual _prettiness_ of anyone. And it wasn't like there hadn't been opportunities. With as many men on set as there were on _The Hobbit_ , there was bound to be some ego-stroking braggery of the male sort and despite filming having only just started, there had already been some teasing and jiving going on.

Aidan had been comfortable with the experience so far. It was the first set he could remember walking onto that hadn't immediately blown-up with questions about his known bisexuality. He had nothing to hide, but the past couple years had been tiresome with the same questions being thrown his way over and over again. From speaking with his castmates, Aidan made the assumption that the dwarfs were suitably a bunch of meandering go-both-ways blokes or possibly just accepting in their attitudes. The easy atmosphere probably took the pressure off of all of them to just be who they were.

But Richard... Richard was still a wild card in the sexuality department. Not that it mattered in any way, shape or form, except it did when Aidan witnessed his peculiar, over-casual behavior when Dean walked into the room. Richard was a friendly guy but he generally kept to the back of the pack, putting his two cents in only when he had something truly remarkable or undeniably necessary to say. He was by no means snooty or held too high regard for himself, and the humbleness of his presence was always a calming force when things were overwhelming. Aidan respected him and his work ethic and could honestly say he was the hardest working, most precise actor he'd ever been on set with.

The clearing of a throat made Aidan realized he'd been standing stone still on the outside of the group while everyone else had congregated in the middle. He shuffled his feet noisily when he finally moved, hoping to give the impression he was just being lazy and not lost in his own head yet again. He was usually the one in the group running around like a blue-arsed fly. They'd come to expect it and he needed to stop acting like he'd been gobsmacked by Dean's arrival and get his head back in the game.

He chose to stand on the other side of Dean from Richard, biting down on his lip when he saw Richard was leaning down to help Dean with the annoying yellow strap of his helmet. Dean glanced up with a friendly smile when Aidan stood beside him, but Aidan forced his eyes to the man leading the group. 

He wasn't sure if the day promised to be the beginning of an interesting, good thing or the start of a curious, bad one.

+*+*+*+

After a grueling, yet entertaining, fifth day of training in a row, _Thorin Oakenshield's Company_ decided to take their new recruit out for a beer or two or six to get to know Dean better. Aidan smirked at the suggestion, having no doubt whatsoever it would have been made whether it was Dean's first week or not. He'd returned to his happy demeanor, his smile genuine and honest when he held the gym door open for Dean and Richard to walk through ahead of him. Once they'd all piled into two minivans, struggling and vying for choice position in the front, they headed for the local watering hole Peter had basically rented out for the duration of their filming time. 

It was a nondescript, manky little place with a depressing, peeling coat of pain on the walls and a rather large fake kiwi hanging over the bar. It was cheap and dodgy which probably explained Peter's ability to wrangle it for them. The old guy with his eyes glued to the tiny telly was no doubt Jack, owner of Jack's Brew, and he was clearly disinterested with whoever had walked through the door despite the noisy lot they were.

They pushed a few old wooden tables together then took a vote on who had to buy the first round. James and Martin lost and moved hesitantly to the bar, attempting to get Jack's attention away from the noise of the television. The rest of the men chuckled and slapped each other's backs before settling their tired and sore bodies into uncomfortable chairs. A round of heavy sighs and rustling of coats being shed drowned out James' boisterous voice as he talked up the disinterested owner.

Aidan ended up at one end of the tables while Dean and Richard cozied up together at the other. Well, perhaps they weren't exactly cozy, but they were bloody close to one another, and having some sort of intense conversation before the first round of beer was even served. Aidan hadn't seen them talking since Dean's first day but the way they leaned into one another was more familiar than not. Perhaps it was Richard who had been keeping Dean occupied during their down time and not Peter.

Aidan took advantage of the distractedness of his tablemates to examine Richard and Dean more closely in the dim light of the pub. The easy smile Richard usually sported had been replaced by a tight line of concern matching the V of worry that had settled between his eyes. Aidan thought it suited what he knew about Thorin Oakenshield to a T, but it wasn't natural to Richard's own face at all. 

Dean's expression wasn't as tightly drawn, his light-eyed gaze flickering from Richard to the table and back. He gnawed at his bottom lip and Aidan noticed the tension in his jaw and the lack of brightness in his eyes that seemed the norm for him from what Aidan had seen and viewed online. It was an odd feeling for Aidan, taking so much interest in someone he'd barely met, and if he was to be completely honest with himself, he was interested. 

His mind had wandered during several sessions of boot camp, questions about Dean constantly flooding his thoughts and distracting him from what he was supposed to be doing. Did he have a girlfriend… or boyfriend? Did he even like blokes because playing a gay role certainly didn't mean he was inclined to do so? Even mundane things such as what sort of music Dean liked to listen to and what his favourite drink was severed Aidan's concentration. 

And his mates hadn't had any qualms about slagging him off about always being one step behind, always just a little off in his steps and swings. But since another part of Aidan's reputation was his propensity to being a klutz so his disorientation hadn't appeared as bad as it might have otherwise. Aidan had just shot them a brilliant smile and told them to fuck off then everything was back to normal or so he'd hoped. 

During one particular clumsy session, Aidan's hopes were dashed when Peter, the other Peter not of the Jackson variety, took him aside and asked if he needed to call it a day since his stamina seemed to be dwindling. Aidan told him in no uncertain terms his statement was nothing but rubbish and he promised to try harder.

After that he'd set out to prove himself, pouring everything he had into the swinging, and kicking, twisting and turning. Instead after all his blustering denial, he made a show of himself by falling hard on his arse near the end of the session. Then to make matters even more brilliantly fucked, Dean had tried to help him up. Aidan's mood had shifted from determined to pissed-off in a moment's time and he'd pushed Dean aside before rushing from the building. 

He'd slunk back to his trailer in a fierce sulk, spending the night eating crisps in front of the telly before going to bed early with a throbbing bruise on his arse. Of course, he'd been teased mercilessly the next day and despite shrugging it off with his usual grin and laugh, it had bothered the fuck out of him for the next couple days… tonight included.

His attention was turned away from Dean and Richard when Martin abruptly appeared at his side, a tray of pints wobbling vicariously in his hands. With a friendly apology, Aidan leaned back in his chair, giving Martin more room to maneuver the tray onto the table. He caught a glimpse of Dean over the tall jars and was rewarded with a warm smile which he tried to return in a natural manner, but was certain he'd failed miserably at. Richard glanced his way a minute later but averted his gaze before Aidan could nod in greeting. 

It was an odd night indeed with everyone complaining and whining about helmets, too bloody big dwarf boots and feelings of being trained for some strange dance routine rather than fighting scenes. They hadn't been given their swords or anything else to use in practice yet, just spent the days twirling and stomping and kicking at each other. It wasn't as bad as all the bellyaching made it sound, and there was just as much tired excitement creeping 'round the musty bar as there was discontent. 

Martin elbowed Aidan in the ribs in precisely the same spot as Richard had assaulted him earlier in the week… twice. Aidan didn't smack him as his first instinct instructed him to do but simply looked at Martin with a genuine smile.

"Dean seems like a nice chap," Martin said before drawing from his glass. "He and Richard appear to have hit it off too. Never seen Rich quite so accommodating as he has been all week. Must be the whole nephew-uncle thing, eh?" Martin chuckled at his own joke but Aidan's mind had already moved on.

It suddenly occurred to him that he was thinking of Dean in a not-so-brotherly way before they'd even acted in any brotherly scenes. The speed of his growing affection and attraction wasn't normal for Aidan. He may have been prone to impulsive ideas and even childish behavior on occasion—in a non-harmful way of course—but bedding and mooning over a co-star wasn't something he usually had any interest or inclination in doing. _Been there, done that, have the bruises to prove it._

His former on-set romance hadn't ended all that badly, but it had been bloody awkward once the novelty of the situation had run its course. And it wasn't as if _The Hobbit_ was a short term role. Aidan had committed to the better part of two years, including premieres for three separate movies, and he wasn't prepared to let one of the best things that had happened to him in his life end up awkward and unfortunate. 

He wasn't into casual sex like he'd once been either. Too many one, two, three night stands had already jaded him to the harm those particular habits could cause with his jumbled feelings and personal relationships. And though he was apt to be as horned-up as the next guy, he'd been forcing himself to take a little time before he dove right into the closest crotch that appealed to him. Not that he'd ever tell anyone that particular bit of information since it didn't jibe well with his ladies/man's man reputation.

Aidan was still confused—or was it concerned—about Richard sniffing after Dean like a dog in heat as soon as Dean had become part of the scenery though. Aidan loved Richard to death but he didn't know if he could compete with the older, more distinguished Englishman. Of course for the record, he didn't know if he was willing or inclined to compete at all. Dean was a nice bloke and as fit a man as Aidan had ever admired, but they hadn't had any real time together since he'd arrived so there was no certainty as to whether they'd hit it off on a personal level at all. 

Since Dean was a scarcity around the camp, Aidan thought Peter was probably keeping him busy during the times they weren't training, undoubtedly showing him the ropes and getting him up to speed with the script and his character. Aidan hadn't caught a glimpse of Dean after hours either so he'd just assumed Dean had once again been detained by something or someone… Richard? 

But Aidan knew he was jumping way ahead of himself. Thinking about competing with Richard to shag Dean was preposterous. Plus, going so far as to have niggles of jealousy about a situation he wasn't sure he even wanted to be in, wasn't doing him any good either. It would be best to get to know Dean a little bit on a friendship level and see how things went from there. And if Richard had some burning desire for Dean and was able to go forward with those feelings, so be it. It wasn't something Aidan could prevent if it was meant to be.

A little bit of lust did a fella good, especially when he was to spend all his time with a group of men in sweaty dwarf costumes. Plus, just because his first impression of Dean was wanting to French kiss his dimples and strip his pert lithe body naked, that didn't mean he'd feel the same way next month or next week or even the next day.

Unfortunately, he did.

+*+*+*+


	2. Where Aidan is still confused... or something, & Dean tries to figure out why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan is still wavering on his thoughts about Dean. He knows he likes him but his closeness with Richard still makes him hang back. Of course, dwarf boot camp is kicking his arse so he's not worrying his pretty head about it much anyhow, at least not until Dean approaches him at an inopportune time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Aidean fic and only 2nd in the fandom. So um... be gentle maybe? Lol. I wrote this for my LJ Prompt table "Lovers 100 challenge" here -->http://chaotic-heart66.livejournal.com/32746.html prompt word LUNCH. Thank you to my lovely ML for her beta-ing awesomeness. I'm working from a basic prompt table which is just words, but I'd love to have some actual prompts if anyone is interested in helping me with that. :)
> 
> This originally had only 2 parts but someone asked about Dean's POV so I went there.
> 
> Reviews are greatly appreciated.
> 
> *title is from the old Carpenters' song of the same name

+*+*+*+

Aidan was minding his own business, using the precious amount of time the cast had been allotted between sessions to shove some food into his grumbling belly. Tipping back on the stiff, metal chair, he closed his eyes and chewed as quickly as he could. He'd found if he kept his eyes shut, no one would try to talk to him and he'd be able to eat as much as he wanted in peace.

He loved his castmates but they had bloody bad timing when it came to Aidan's need to eat… and he ate a lot. His fast metabolism made it necessary for him to nourish himself more often and _just more_ than anyone else, and being entrenched in roughed-up pseudo-dance classes took a lot out of him. He wasn't a runner or a biker and didn't even belong to a gym so all the exercise was wearing on him. He fell into the single bed in his trailer face first every night, sometimes too tired to even take off his clothes and he didn't bloody well care.

The enthusiasm of the first two weeks of boot camp had faded for more than just Aidan, and the cast spending time together after hours had become a rare occurrence. He'd even stopped keeping track of Dean, stopped letting him occupy his thoughts because he was just too bloody tired to even think about getting off. And Aidan hadn't actually decided Dean was the way he wanted to get off in the first place so it was all one big, exhausting waste of brain power that he didn't even have.

He moaned deep in his throat with satisfaction, his jaw working hard to clear his mouth so he could take another bite. He'd already had two bowls of soup, three chicken sandwiches and was working on his second chocolate chip muffin just to pacify his sweet tooth. He hadn't even bothered grabbing a cup of tea, too intent on filling his plate before anyone else. His mates were accustomed to his rapid consumption of whatever was offered at the mock buffet line, at least he thought they were.

"How do you not weigh three hundred pounds?"

Aidan startled, the two legs of the chair he'd been vicariously balancing on wobbling as his body jerked. He managed to save the muffin he was munching on and the two biscuits in a bowl that he'd tossed haphazardly into his lap for later, but saving his body was another thing entirely.

"Bloody hell!" he gasped, pieces of muffin sticking to his beard as they flew from his open mouth. He lay on his side on the ground, staring up at Dean while a blush heated him up from the inside out. "Fuckin' hell. Ya shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

Dean looked down at him, a shocked expression shadowing his eyes for mere seconds until he broke out into the biggest shit-eating grin Aidan had ever seen. "Didn't know you were so jumpy, mate."

Aidan faked a chuckle, shoving his embarrassment deep so Dean couldn't see the flustering he was feeling in his gut. "Just a little high strung I guess. Can't trust any of these wankers around here. Wallys, the whole bunch of them."

"Did you just say wallys? Didn't know you Irishmen knew that word."

Aidan shrugged, balancing the little dish of biscuits in his hand while he sat up. "Must must have picked it up somewhere." 

"I'd heard you were the biggest wally here," Dean teased, those damn dimples shining at Aidan.

"Maybe, but can't mess with myself, now can I?"

Dean grinned some more then reached out his hand. "Here, let me help you up."

"Take the biscuits so they don't go to waste." Aidan shoved the still-pristine snacks at Dean then stumbled and staggered his way back to his feet. Once he was upright again, he gave Dean a teasing shove then brushed himself off and wiped at the crumbs on his face and beard. "Were you wanting something particular or do ya just get off on scaring folks out of their skin?"

Dean chuckled and Aidan was suddenly struck with that same feeling he'd had the first time they met; a wiggling ache in his belly that wasn't from lunch and a tightening in his groin that wasn't from falling on his arse on the ground.

"Just came over to chat. Didn't know I had such an influence on you that you'd fall at my feet." His smile was wide, dimples sunk deep into his scruffy cheeks and eyes sparkling in the light of the sun, _and_ Aidan had to look away.

"Yeah. I mean no.... bollocks… maybe it's time to go back already, yeah?" For someone who never had trouble saying what he was thinking, usually before he actually thought out what he was going to say, Aidan was doing an awful lot of stuttering and choking on his words.

"No, still got some time. You all full up?" Dean held out the little dish of biscuits and Aidan dipped his head and took them back.

"Don't get full up too often unfortunately. You wanna share?"

Dean nodded and grabbed one of the biscuits, rolling it between his fingers before taking a bite. Aidan watched through long, dark lashes as he lifted it to his mouth, unwittingly focused on the cupid's bow of Dean's lips and the way his mouth widened and latched onto the biscuit when he bit down.

"Aid?"

"Yeah?" Aidan replied involuntarily.

"You didn't hit your noggin, did ya?" Dean tilted his head, chasing Aidan's gaze with his own. Aidan had to look away… again. "You're acting a little odd, mate."

"No," he said, shuffling his feet and shoving a hand through his hair. "I mean, I'm just tired, I guess. How you holding up?" 

"Good. Still getting used to the fucking magnitude of the whole thing but I'm chuffed as hell. Wanna take a walk? Stretch out some of those sore muscles I know I have."

Aidan's answer was instant and loud. "Yeah, sure."

He shoved the whole of his biscuit in his mouth and chewed noisily while he tried not to grin with his mouth full. Dean shook his head and smirked. "You're a mad piece of work, yeah?"

"I try."

+*+*+*+

They didn't walk far because time was scarce and they lumbered along at a pretty slow pace. It was the first dinner break on set that Aidan hadn't spent, well… just eating and chatting with the gang. It was a nice change and having Dean at his side made it bang on.

"It's a little close out here today, yeah?" Aidan said, concentrating on his feet so he wouldn't trip over them or anything else in his wake.

"Forget you're in New Zealand, dude? No humidity in Ireland?"

"Aye, humidity, but not this knackered stickiness." 

They continued along in silence while small trickles of perspiration gathered at the nape of Aidan's neck. It was too bloody hot for a walk, especially when they were heading back in to be dwarf-tortured again. But the loveliness of spending time with Dean outweighed the discomfort ten-fold.

"Don't mind if I ask you something, do ya?" Dean asked as they stopped to circle back the way they'd come.

Aidan looked up from the ground, straight into one of Dean's dimples and he could have sworn the bloody think winked at him. His lips turned up into a crooked smile and he waved a hand to the side. "Depends what it is, I guess."

Dean leaned close, his shoulder tapping against Aidan's. "Just wondering if there's something about me that puts you off."

"Aye, right."

"I'm serious. I hear everyone talk about what a wally you are but you seem stressed or nervous around me most of the time."

"Really?" Aidan tried to keep an honest tone to his voice since what Dean said was more right than he would ever know. "Told you I was high strung, yeah?"

He snuck a peek at Dean out of the corner of his eye. His forehead was crinkled, matching the smattering of confusion in his blue eyes. Aidan didn't like the look or the fact he'd put it there.

"Listen. Maybe I'm just not used to being around ya yet. I like you just fine and I think we'll get on really well once we get to know each other a little better." 

Dean didn't answer for a few dozen heartbeats and Aidan wondered if his response had been the right one. He struggled with something else to say but Dean beat him to it.

"How 'bout tonight then, eh?"

Aidan stumbled but righted himself before landing on his arse again, or worse, his face. "What?"

"Go for a drink with me tonight."

"A drink? Tonight?"

"You're doing that whole nervous thing again. If you don't want to, it's all good, Aid."

Oh, Aidan did like Dean calling him by his nickname. He'd never really thought about it before but hearing it from Dean's mouth made it seem fiercely sweet. "What about Richard?"

Dean stopped walking, one hand settling on Aidan's sweaty shoulder. "What about him?"

"I just… just assumed you and he were... you know... spending time together." 

Dean sighed and dipped his head, shoving a hand through his blond curls. "Spending time? Oh, crikey. Just say you'll go for a drink with me and I'll try to explain something to ya. Deal?

Aidan narrowed his eyes. "Explain what exactly?"

Dean smiled sweet and genuine at him. "Just trust me, all right? I'll meet ya at your trailer after camp then? Maybe grab a bite at that place in town?"

Finding no way to get out of the invitation and not exactly wanting to, despite the images of Dean and Richard huddled together in the pub roving through his mind, Aidan nodded. "Sounds good."

"Brilliant. I'll see you later then, yeah?" With a squeeze to Aidan's shoulder Dean turned and started hurrying away.

Aidan blinked in confusion. "We're still on break. Where ya running off to?"

"To find Richard." Then Dean was gone.

Bloody fucking brilliant.

+*+*+*+

Dean tried like hell to find Richard before the dwarfs were called back into camp, but the Englishman was scarce. He took the same spot he'd had in the morning and started stretching as Peter had instructed them to do before each session. A quick glance toward the doorway brought both Aidan and Richard into his line of sight. They were entering the building together but not really together, more like Aidan was purposely walking three steps behind Richard.

Richard was posture-perfect, back straight, long legs and arms swinging and stepping in perfect unison to get him to exactly wherever he was headed. That had been one of the first things Dean had noticed about him after that first day of nerves had disappeared; Richard never did anything halfway. He busted a gut in everything he did. His intensity was literally exhausting to Dean, but in a way he admired and wished he could duplicate. Dean was no slouch but Richard made him feel like he was walking in quicksand some days.

Aidan, on the other hand, was a hot mess, his mad curls loosed from their usual man-bun confinement, hands jerking here and there as he talked, eyes wide with enthusiasm and excitement. Dean marveled at how he could look completely undone but brilliantly put-together at the same time. 

Aidan's mouth was going a mile a minute as he chuckled with James and stuffed the remains of what appeared to be a chocolate chip muffin between his smiling lips. Seriously, did the man ever get full? And Peter would have his head if he saw him with food on the practice floor, but then again Aidan would probably just grin and _doe-eye_ his way out of any reprimand. It wasn't a shot against Aidan, just a fact that everyone in Thorin's Company was well aware of: Aidan could charm and pretty his way out of a brown paper bag if it had eyes and half a brain. 

He oozed sex appeal, but also an innocence and naïveté at the same damn time that made everyone in the vicinity want to talk to him, Dean included. Of course today had been the first time Aidan hadn't run like a scared rabbit or ducked Dean's attention since he'd arrived. He hoped tonight would change that, was bargaining on it really, but with Aidan Turner one could never be sure what was flowing through his mop-covered head.

As Richard passed Dean, giving an obligatory nod, Dean reached out and wrapped a hand around his forearm—around a very strong forearm to be more exact. Who knew such a tall, wiry-looking fella could be so strong and solid at the same time. Richard furrowed his brow as he stepped back and looked at Dean.

"Can we talk during the break?" Dean asked, fully aware that Aidan had stopped munching and chuckling long enough to watch their exchange.

"Something the matter?" Richard asked. Dean still swooned a little at the deep baritone of his voice and he couldn't wait to hear it coming out of the even stronger presence of Thorin Oakenshield. "There's usually not a lot of time in between. How about after sessions are over?"

Dean frowned before reaching his arms over his head, stretching up and arching his back so he didn't look like a wally not doing what he was supposed to. He still felt like the new guy, more than likely always would, and a part of him also expected someone to walk up and tell him he wasn't up to rack off, to send him on his way. It made him try harder, and in the long run that was a good thing, though he'd never match up to the Richard level of trying.

"Won't take but a minute. Just don't wanna do it while everyone's about."

Richard mirrored Dean's movements, mirrored as in doing them far more precisely and holding the stretches twice as long. "Sounds mysterious. Everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Well, no. I'm meeting Aidan for a bite tonight and I kind of wanted to get things straight between him and I about, you know, you and me."

"Attention, mates! We're gonna start a little later than planned..." Peter's words were drowned out by a whole mess of groaning dwarfs. "Settle down. I promise we'll still be done on time, but if you don't want to practice with your weapons for the first time—" The groans quickly became cheers and boisterous ego-strokings with regards to who had the biggest weapon. "Do some more stretching, focus on your arms and back, and we'll start straight away."

Richard turned back to Dean with a broad grin on his face. "Guess we have some time. Join me on the floor?"

Dean's face must have given away his confusion because Richard let out a low chuckle before pulling him down with him until they both landed on their backsides. 

"All right. Care to share what's going on?" Richard stretched his legs out, his torso bending forward as his fingers latched onto his toes. 

Dean marveled at how limber and bendy he was, but at the same time realized if he tried to do the same, he'd probably sprain something or literally bust a gut. He settled for doing a few slow torso twists as he worked out the words in his head.

"I guess I was hoping you'd be good with me telling him about us." Richard bent his knees and pulled them to his chest. Dean noticed the quick glance he shot in Aidan's direction. "I think it'll be fine, Rich. He's not the judging or gossiping sort."

Richard nodded before stretching his legs out again. "More of an adorable lunkhead, I guess." He smiled and Dean knew he'd meant no offense but an honest affection towards Aidan.

"Wait. You think Aidan's adorable?" Dean grinned and snuck his own peek at the man in question. Aidan's mouth was stretched wide as he belly-laughed with James, his eyes dark and teary. Dean assumed it was because he was taking the piss and giving it back full force, that or James was pulling his pigtails, which Dean had no qualms about James actually doing. 

"Well, he's certainly not beastly, is he? More like a big, friendly puppy everyone adores." Richard smirked, his attention also focused on Aidan and James. "And those two there, most frightening pair in the dwarf pack, at least when they're together. Watch yourself around them. When those tossers are in a mischievous mood all hell breaks loose." His words were accompanied with an affectionate smile as he turned back to Dean. 

Dean returned the grin. He reminded himself to say a special prayer of thanks tonight for the brilliant situation he'd been allowed to take part in. He'd never met a more supportive lot than his current castmates. The only one who even seemed remotely uncomfortable around him was Aidan and his big plan for tonight was to find out just why that was.

"Point taken," he said as he wrangled his stray thoughts back into submission. "So, you all right with it then?"

Richard shrugged, holding his shoulders around his ears a little longer than necessary. Dean smirked when he realized he was stretching again. "It's not really a secret anyhow. No one will even think twice about it in this crowd."

"Just figured since you hadn't been shelved into any category in the media yet, I'd let you have your say before I told him."

"I appreciate that, Dean. I hope he takes the news all right."

"Okay, listen up again! I need all the dwarfs to follow me to the equipment room and all the rest of you to head over to Mark by the doorway. Let's go people, it's weapon time."

Richard and Dean rose from the floor, Richard groaning when he turned toward Peter. Dean looked past him to see what the cause of his irritation had been. 

"Please tell me they aren't giving Aidan a sword right after dinner break," he muttered, gaze focused on a very excited Aidan as he bounced toward Peter. "That boy gets so hopped-up on sugar I don't know how he functions."

Dean chuckled and laid a hand on Richard's shoulder as they walked to the equipment room. Aidan stopped his bouncing to give them a tight smile then turned his back and walked far too calmly the rest of the way to the room. He was obviously still feeling awkward around Dean, and Dean hoped it had nothing to do with his questions about Richard. After all he had promised Richard that Aidan would be cool with the news.

He didn't get a chance to talk to either one of them for the rest of the session as he glowed with enthusiasm over the set of twin swords he'd been given. They weren't real of course but that didn't stop him from thinking they were gnarly as fuck.

+*+*+*+

Dean grabbed a quick shower in his trailer, threw on some clean jeans and a retro White Snake T-shirt then slicked back his hair. His bloody curls were getting so long he really needed a haircut, not that it would matter when he started wearing a headful of long braids. His mum always told him longer hair made him look younger and for this shoot he figured he needed the credibility of looking his age.

After one last look in the mirror, he stepped into his sneakers and headed for the door. Aidan's trailer was a few away from Dean's but he could see the Irishman standing outside, a cigarette perched between his lips. He appeared to be shifting from his heels to the balls of his feet at a rhythmic pace while he crossed and uncrossed his arms over his chest.

"G'day," Dean called out as he got closer. 

Aidan's head whipped around, the cigarette falling from his lips and a grand "fuck" bursting into the air. 

"Still high strung I see?"

"Aye, you're a funny arse." Aidan snubbed out the sparks with the toe of his boot then turned to face Dean. "You just have the bad habit of sneaking up on innocent people, is all."

"I expected you to be stuffing your face with some sort of biscuit or another." He smirked, happy to see Aidan's lips curl up in return.

"I am fucking starvin'. Did ya figure out how we're getting to town?"

"Already taken care of. Peter let me have the keys to one of the vans."

"Sweet. We'll be riding in class tonight then, won't we? Imagine all the ladies we'll have to fight off."

"Ladies?"

"Or guys. Whatever your pleasure." Aidan dipped his head as he spoke, his boot scuffing in the dirt until Dean broke the silence.

"Ready then?"

"Yep. Lead on, mate."

+*+*+*+

After grabbing a quick order of greasies—two orders for Aidan, of course—they walked side by side into Jack's Brew. The place was deserted, all except for Jack again or still huddled in front of his television. Dean told Aidan to pick a table while he ordered a couple pints. Jack barely looked away from his program as Dean ordered, paid then headed to the back corner where Aidan was hunched over a round, wooden table.

"Afraid of getting recognized, mate?"

Aidan snorted, leaning back in his chair before turning his dark eyes and brilliant smile on Dean. "Can never be too careful around these Kiwi parts, you know?"

"Not sure whose Kiwi parts you're looking at but being careful is probably a good idea." 

Aidan replied with a loud laugh, one of those belly ones he usually saved for James. 

Dean was more than a little proud of being able to pull one out of him. He placed the two glasses on the table then took the chair beside Aidan. "You think we're the only business old Jack gets?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. It's a little dodgy, ain't it? Not the most exciting place to hang out. Using actual weapons was a bit of a kick today, wasn't it?"

Aidan's questions came fast and furious but Dean just smiled like he hadn't noticed the haste and almost desperation in his voice. "Fuck yeah, man. Did you see the gnarly twin swords they gave me? I swear just holding them made me randy for the rest of the day."

Aidan's eyes widened and he suddenly appeared fiercely interested in draining the entirety of his pint. Dean watched his throat work, worried he'd choke or spew it all over him. "Did I say something wrong, again?"

After slamming his glass down on the tabletop, Aidan wiped a hand over his mouth and let out a loud belch. He chuckled, stopped, then apologized. "Sorry. Guess I was thirsty. Another round?"

"Aid, we just got here. Talk to me, man. I know we haven't exactly become friends yet but I just don't get why you seem so fucking nervous around me."

"Truth? I sort of expect Richard to come walking in the door any minute. Not that I'm trying to keep you all to myself or I don't like Armitage at all, but… fuck, yeah, all right. You make me a little confused in the head."

"Why would Richard be here? And how do I confuse you?"

Aidan's head snapped back. "You gotta admit you talk to him more than anyone else, Dean, and you might have invited me but you went runnin' to him soon after. Can't blame a fella for being a little gobsmacked by what's going on. It's not my business but it feels like I'm in the middle of some sort of mental game."

Dean bowed his head, his fingers winding tighter around his glass while Aidan slumped back in his chair. "I didn't go running… well, not really. I had to talk to him but… it's just that…" There was just no other way to say it and even if Aidan was going to have a bad reaction, it had to be done since he already seemed so bloody upset. So Dean just let it out. 

"Richard and I slept together."


	3. Where Aidan is grammatically correct & Dean is fond of fungus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's sprung the news on Aidan so it's up to the Irishman to either embrace it or maybe get a little drunk. Meanwhile, Richard is charming, Dean decides he's quite fond of fungus and Aidan's enthralled by Dean's pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of 3 written from a prompt table for Lovers100 at LJ - prompt word FRIENDS. This was my first official Aidean so maybe be gentle? ;)
> 
> Reviews and kudos are love. :)

_"I slept with Richard."_

_Blood fucking hell!_ Of all the things Aidan's mad brain had conjured up, that was not one he'd expected to hear from Dean's mouth. He hadn't even considered the possibility. All right, maybe he had, but in a _no fucking way_ sort of way, and certainly not a blunt, in-your-face statement that he really had no response to. 

He'd suspected Dean and Richard were friendly, even fancied one another, but they'd already shagged? It was surreal but... oh, yeah, Dean must just be putting him on. No one worked that fast and Aidan was positive he would have been able to tell... wouldn't he?

"Aidan?" 

He searched Dean's eyes for a glimmer that he was trying to pull one over on his, just a blink of a smile in his eyes would tell Aidan it was a load of bollocks. But there was none there. All he found was serious affirmation and concern. Aidan wondered why Dean would be worried since he'd been the one who'd let loose the bomb not the other way around. 

"Aidan? You okay?"

Aidan finally realized he'd been silent since the confession, and despite his mouth being filled with cotton he had to say something.

"Good on ya, mate."

Most. Inappropriate. Response. Ever. 

"What? Did you even hear what I..."

Aidan slammed his hands on the table, the whole bloody thing tipping precariously toward him while Dean scurried to rescue his half-full pint. Aidan ignored the look of surprise from across the table, choosing instead to go with his original plan. He'd already downed one pint and it was bloody well time for another or five.

"That deserves a toast, don't it?" he all but bellowed into the empty room. "Stay put and I'll be back in a jiff. Nice job, Dean."

So he was back to _bloody fucking hell_ playing on a loop in his head because really… sincerely… honestly… what the bloody fucking hell was going on? Richard and Dean. Dean and Richard. Suspecting something was between them was a whole different sort of thing than hearing it from the horse's mouth, or would it be horse's ass in this case? It had to involve someone's ass after all, and _bloody fucking hell_ , he did not want that image in his head or images because you never knew how many different perspectives such an image could take... fuck, he was the only real horse's ass now, wasn't he?

The smack and instant pain of his shin when he stumbled over a chair he was sure hadn't been there when he catapulted himself across the room, snapped him back to what he was doing. Beer... lots and lots of beer. He was sure that would make the situation far clearer because he certainly didn't have enough alcohol in him to handle the thought of Richard fucking Dean... Dean fucking Richard.

"You gonna stand there all night with your mouth hanging open, pretty boy? Or is there something I can help ya with?"

Aidan looked up into Jack's bloodshot green eyes—he was almost positive the bloke's name was Jack, though he didn't think he'd never heard the man speak before.

"Beer. Lots of beer... if you please. Oh, and two shots of whatever you got back there... whatever's handy is fine." He downed the first shot before Jack had a chance to fill the next one, and before he realized it was whiskey that Jack had placed before him. But that was a thought for another time… more than likely the next morning when his body would be very unhappy with him. 

"Same glass is fine," he mumbled before Jack complied. The second one went down just as harsh, burning its way to his belly but feeling like it totally belonged there.

"Not sure what the definition of lots is where you come from, but down here we usually sell it by the pint."

Aidan tossed his head back, letting loose a full-belly laugh that echoed through the concrete-encased room, the shrillness surprising even him. Jack didn't flinch for a second. Aidan covered his mouth, his gaze searching the emptiness of the pub. When he turned in Dean's direction, he felt Dean's eyes drilling heated holes in the side of his head before he even made eye contact. 

It was a sexy look really. All pretty blue eyes and soft disapproving lips, though Aidan's favorite dimples were sadly missing. With his biggest toothy grin, he waggled his fingers in a weird as shite wave, watching as Dean just kept shifty-eyed staring at him. Aidan turned back to Jack.

"I asked you for alcohol, mate? So where is it?"

"But you just drank…"

"I've got money, now how about? I'm about to be a famous dwarf so it's not like you need my bloody I.D., is it?"

He ignored the shake of Jack's head, his fingers tapping impatiently on the surface of the bar. He didn't know what the bartender's problem was but when a customer asked for a drink, he should bloody well get a drink.

Jack filled a shot glass that just happened to be in front of Aidan, and despite wondering for barely a second if it was clean or dirty, Aidan slugged it back. Jack filled it again then held out his hand. Aidan's mind spun, his whole body tingling then going numb. It had to be brilliant whiskey if it made him so fuzzy so fast, and did it really matter that he didn't remember ordering whiskey in the first place?

He dismissed the thought, smiled wide, then dropped a handful of bills on the bar. "Thank you, sir. I guess I'll be needing a tray. Thank you very much. And might you add one more pint to that, please? I'll just drink it here." 

And he did, the ale cooling his throat but landing with a nauseous thud in the pit of his stomach. He belched then apologized to Jack who had already returned to his unfocused program on the telly. With (at least) two shots of whiskey and two pints of beer guiding his wobbly path—hell, he was an easy drunk tonight if his no rhyme or reason giggling was any indication—Aidan was sure he was ready to continue his interrogation, er... conversation with Dean.

He supposed Richard and Dean were a good match, both fine mates and fiercely good-looking to boot. The height difference was a little strange of course, but that could always be conquered in a horizontal position, could even be an advantage if Dean was on his knees. 

Aidan slowed his pace when that particular image flooded his head, pausing briefly to set the tray on a table between the bar and Dean. He crouched clumsily to tie his sneaker—that wasn't really undone, best fake ever—trying to force the picture in his mind to go the fuck away. 

_Fucking Christ_! He did not want that sight in his head; Dean on his knees, hands clutching Richard's strong thighs as he looked up into Richard's lusty gaze. It would have been a charming view in another circumstance. Of course, Dean had to be kneeling at Aidan's feet or even the other way around. And Richard shouldn't be in the picture at all. 

It was certainly hard to imagine getting to know Dean better with Richard at his side all the time. Not that Aidan wanted to get to know him in any way except friendly-like… or did he? Didn't really matter since Richard was already occupying the pants Aidan had wanted to get into and there was certainly no room for all three of them in those tight trousers of Dean's…not that Aidan wanted that… oh fuck, why was he suddenly feeling so schizophrenic? Must be the damn whiskey.

Reaching a hand up, Aidan grabbed the edge of the table, the floor shifting a little under his feet as he pulled himself up with an uncontrolled grin. He didn't know when getting into Dean's pants had become a priority or even a possibility, and the thought made him drool a little from trying so hard to contain his laughter. Dean met his gaze again and Aidan snapped his mouth closed. He wiggled his fingers in Dean's direction again, then held up a finger to say he was on his way.

 _Dean and Richard_. An odd match to say the least and Aidan would surely support them… unless he didn't. He gave his head a shake and hoisted his precious cargo between his hands again, stepping carefully toward his destination.

He glowed with pride as he set the tray of glasses on the table in front of Dean without spilling a drop. It was beer after all and he needed all the liquid courage he could get if he wanted to keep his manners in check and be a proper friend to Dean. But wait, perhaps it was the other way around... maybe the alcohol would cause more inappropriateness to spew? He couldn't remember the damn rules what with his head all hazy and flickery. He shrugged and decided no matter the outcome, beer was definitely the way to go.

Dean held his stoic stare as Aidan giggled behind his hand then wiggled back into his chair. He held one of the glasses high over his head, his fingers trembling just enough to set the foam bouncing and spilling a little over the rim. "Cheers," he yelled, well... cheerfully. "Congrats on shagging Richard. I've heard he's quite the catch."

When Dean didn't raise his glass, Aidan took a noisy slurp from his own then placed it carefully in front of him, fingers wrapped around the frosty surface just in case someone tried to take it from him. Of course, they'd have to break his hands and maybe his legs, too, to make that happen, but his mam did always say to be proactive in such situations, and wear clean underwear when he was going out.

A painful grin split his face when he noticed Dean wasn't drinking. "Not to your liking? Should I get you something else? I'm sure Jack could whip you up something pretty and girlie."

Dean's mouth gaped open, reminding Aidan of a goldfish he'd once had. He'd named him Boris. He'd hated the fucker because, really, how could you substitute a dog or cat for a bloody fish in a bowl? 

When Dean kept quiet, Aidan wondered if he'd taken what he said the wrong way and he certainly hadn't meant it to sound exactly how it had. "I didn't mean that in a gay way, you know? Because I'm partly that way myself. It even says so in the tabloids."

"I think we should get going," Dean said simply with a look of disappointment shadowing his otherwise stunning blue eyes. 

Aidan had always been a sucker for pretty, blue eyes, especially of the Dean variety. Not that he wanted Dean's eyes because he'd look damn strange without them, or any other part of him because... bloody fucking hell, Dean was shagging Richard, and there was no room in his pants.

"Can't leave until the beer's finished—bad luck and all that. We Irish don't take kindly to bad luck, especially since our leprechauns aren't always around to protect us. Or maybe it's just the gold they protect... fucking Christ!" His eyes widened until he could feel the stretch, the best fucking idea ever blasting his fuzzy brain. "Fucking, fuck me! Erebor should have had a bloody leprechaun protecting its gold! Would have fixed all the problems."

"Aidan," Dean began. Aidan blinked madly at him, trying hard not to stare at Dean's full, pretty lips. "Do you have a drinking problem?"

Aidan shrugged then slouched back in his chair, dribbling a steady stream of beer into his beard because moving and drinking just wasn't working for him, not to mention he'd started to get the giggles again. "No. You?"

Dean leaned forward in his chair, crooking a finger at Aidan. 

Aidan shifted towards him with a full-out chuckle. "Do you have another secret? This is kinda fun, yeah? I should think of something to tell you, too, to make it fair and all. But not about your pants, I shouldn't say nothin' about your pants…"

Dean pressed a finger to Aidan's lips, making a shushing sound as he smiled gently. Aidan had to force himself not to lick that tasty finger. 

"If you don't have a problem, why are there six… well, five pints between us?"

Aidan rolled his eyes then tired to focus again. "Because I couldn't carry any more?"

Dean moved back in his chair again, fingertips shoving the hair from his forehead. "For Christ' sake, Aidan. I'm trying to be patient here. I swear I am, but obviously what I said is making you so uncomfortable you want to get blasted out of your skull."

"'m not uncomfortable. I congratulated you, didn't I? Whatcha want me to do instead? Call you homosexual slurs and run screaming from the building?" 

He finished off his pint, shoving it back on the tray and helping himself to another. If Dean was going to be all huffy, Aidan would just drink his share, too. Dean obviously couldn't hold his liquor very well

"Aidan?" 

He wasn't sure why Dean kept saying his name like he was some kind of child who needed his attention focused. Two could play at that game. "Dean?" Then he said it again… just because. "Dean?"

At least Dean smiled a little before he answered. "What do you think I said?"

Aidan licked foam from his bottom lip, screwing his eyes downward to make sure he'd gotten it all. That made him more than a little dizzy and the giggles returned. "Said about what?" he asked, forcing his laughter down until he finished speaking. It appeared afterward in the form of a loud hiccup that made him giggle even more. Dean ignored his delight.

"About Richard?"

"Oh, that. Yeah, yeah, you said you were fuckin' him."

Dean groaned, dipping his head then raking his fingers through his hair again. "I said I slept with him."

"To-may-toes, to-mah-toes."

"Past tense, Aid. _Slept_ , not sleeping."

That managed to confuse Aidan in such a way that he couldn't reply until he'd had a good long slurp. "Did he already dump you then? That's harsh, man." Dean's head fell between his hands on the table and Aidan suddenly, inexplicably understood. "Ah, I get it. I think you've had too much to drink. Best be giving me the keys."

Dean lifted then shook his head. "You better be fucking with me or I'll leave you here. Then you can explain to Peter why you missed dwarf camp."

"Can't fuck with you when you're fucking Richard. That's not polite or proper... or grammatically correct either."

"I think you mean politically correct."

"Aye, no. Never talk politics with an Irishman. We'll eatcha for breakfast."

Dean's voice softened and Aidan almost blushed at the dimply smile he sent Aidan's way. "Can I see your hand?"

Aidan held up his left in front of his face, eyes crossing as he examined them. "Why? Is something wrong with it?"

Dean smiled sweetly, those damn dimples popping at Aidan again. He wondered if Richard liked sticking his tongue in them. He was still pondering the question when Dean took his hand. 

"Ow! What the fuck?" he cried out, spilling the remainder of his pint on his lap when Dean's fingernails pinched into the back of his hand. Waste of fucking beer and goddamn it, "Ow, fuck!"

"Got your attention now?" 

Aidan nodded reluctantly, bottom lip puffed out while he swiped beer off his jeans then stuck his wet fingers in his mouth. 

"Richard and I shagged... slept together almost seven years ago. I didn't even recognize him until he reminded me about it."

"But… but? What? We just started filming... ohhhh... oh?"

"It was at some premiere thing in London. I went with my manager for exposure of my new flick, got drunk off my ass, and ended up in the hotel room of some tall, hot Brit whose name I never even knew."

Aidan leaned in to Dean, using his very best inside voice, "Do you think it was Richard?"

Dean laughed loudly, startling Aidan who bumped the table again, sending the rest of the pints rolling in Dean's direction. Dean leaped from his chair, rescuing the glasses but not the precious liquid. 

Aidan stared wide-eyed, his mouth dropping open as he struggled to get to his feet, intent on saving the precious pints from their impending doom. His legs weren't cooperating though and all he managed to do was slip on the wasted beer before landing on his arse at Dean's feet. The situation seemed somewhat familiar.

"Jesus Christ, Aidan," Dean said, arms full of pints, his body soaked and dripping with beer. "I'm fucking renaming you."

Aidan craned his neck to look up at Dean. "Don't think my mam would appreciate that…"

"No, you twat, your dwarf name. I think you're more suited to _Clumsy_ than Kili."

After a pause to consider the idea, Aidan frowned. "But we wouldn't match then," he said. That concerned him. He liked being Kili to Dean's Fili, but if he was Clumsy then Dean would have to be… 

" _Dumbsy_ , I'll call you Dumbsy." The thought completely gutted him and he fell backward on the dirty floor, his belly aching with laughter and beer, and he thought maybe he had a whiskey or two sloshing around in there, as well.

He banged his head a few times before he was suddenly dragged back up and into Dean's arms. Dean's mouth was so close, Aidan could feel warm breath on his face, could smell sweet and sour and yeast from between Dean's lips. He really wanted to taste Dean… at least he thought he did.

Dean patted him on the back. "Can you stand now, on your own I mean?"

Aidan nodded, but in truth he would have preferred to stay right where he was, and when had that happened? And was it even a fact or just a whim from the spinning recesses of his mind?

"I think I should get you back to your trailer, Aid. You ready?"

"Why Dean O'Gorman, what kind of girl do you take me for?" 

Aidan lunged at Dean, trapping him in the tightest, hardest, most sloppy hug he'd ever sloppily trapped anyone in before. Dean made a little growling sound and Aidan growled right back as he rocked Dean back and forth in his arms. He didn't budge an inch in his attempt to hug the cute right the fuck out of Dean though. Growling was good, yeah?  
"I like you, Dean. I think we can get on really well." Dean relaxed against him but when he didn't return the sentiment, Aidan's brain hiccupped with confusion. Had he said something inappropriate… again? "Have I done something wrong, Dean?"

"Like squeezing me to death? Not at all." 

Dean paused with his head leaned against Aidan's shoulder. It felt nice and Aidan even let up his manly hold just a touch since, well, Dean seemed to be struggling a little to get his breath. Must be all the damn beer he'd drunk. Kiwis were such bloody lushes.

Aidan was suddenly struck with a thought, a normal one at that. "Didn't we come here to have a talk? Seems bloody irregular to invite me to talk then not talk, don't it?"

"How about we finish it another time, yeah?"

With a shrug, Aidan stopped hugging the stuffing out of Dean, but kept an arm wrapped around his shoulders as they headed for the door. He supposed getting Dean back to the studio was the proper thing to do. Didn't want him too hung-over the next day or Peter would surely rip him a new one. Aidan frowned so hard his face hurt. He wasn't sure if he liked that image of Dean or not.

Dean cleared his throat, pulling Aidan away from the picture in his head that had turned disturbing very quickly. Dean handed Jack some bills when he finally turned toward them, and Aidan wondered if he'd underpaid before. Dean must have read his mind. 

"You… we left a bit of a mess in there. At least Jack won't kick us out if we come back again." 

After Dean helped him into the van—he was such a gentleman—Aidan clipped in his seatbelt and turned as sideways as possible in his seat. "You never answered me back there, Dean. Do you think we're gonna be friends now?"

"Yeah, mate. You're definitely starting to grow on me."

With a laugh that lurched his belly, Aidan threw his head back before resting against the seat. He let his eyes slip shut, suddenly very tired. "I had a girlfriend once who told me I grew on her like a fungus. That was not very polite, proper or grammatically correct."

"I'm quite fond of fungus myself."

+*+*+*+

Dean balanced his meal, coffee and bottle of water as he made his way toward Richard. "Hey, Rich. Have you seen Aidan around? Mind if I sit?" Richard nodded and Dean sat down.

Richard dabbed at his lips with a paper napkin. "Rumor has it Peter sent him back to his trailer because he was under the weather."

Dean attempted to suppress a chuckle behind the rim of his cup. If the narrowing of Richard's eyes and the handsome smirk on his face was any indication, he'd failed. 

"You privy to some inside information, sister-son? Care to share?" Richard asked, turning in his chair so he faced Dean dead-on.

Dean hesitated. "Ummm… does Aidan have a drinking problem?"

Richard's brow furrowed and his bottom lip quirked. "Not that I know of, no worse than the rest of us I guess. Why?"

"He had a few last night and he was acting rather… odd."

"Well, he's always a little odd, isn't he?" They shared a good-natured chuckle before Richard continued. "Was it before or after you told him our dirty little secret?" Richard chuckled then sipped his tea.

"Wha… dirty little… you bastard. But come to think of it, it was after I told him."

"Doesn't seem like Aidan, does it? He's known for playing both sides of the rugby field so why would a years-old shag get him all worked up?" 

With a shrug, Dean twisted the cap from his water and took a long draw while he thought about the answer. "That's the thing. He seemed all right with it at first. I think his words were 'good on ya, mate' then he decided he needed to toast the occasion. After that it just got a little mad."

"Does sound strange. Maybe he was just having an off day? I've seen him struggling now and again during dwarf camp so maybe he just needed to blow off some steam. Did you have a lot to drink?"

"I had one and I think he managed two and a half without spilling them all over the both of us."

Richard snorted softly behind his napkin. "Sounds entertaining, but I can't imagine it was enough to get him drunk unless..." He paused, his face shifting into a dramatic mask. Dean wanted to smack him.

"Stop your ominous, dramatic shite. Unless what?"

With a muffled laugh, Richard replied, "You didn't let him drink any whiskey, did you?"

Dean shook his head. What kind of a question was that? "He's a bloody grown man, but no, we didn't have any. Why?"

"Well, it doesn't appear to be an actually allergy he has to the stuff, but the times he's drunk it with us, we've had to carry him home. Didn't seem to take all that many to light him up either. Was he pretty lit, then?"

"Like a bloody firecracker. He did go up to get a round or three at the bar, and he was there for quite some time."

Richard cocked his head. His look may have been condescending or in the least disappointed, and Dean wanted to smack him again. "You let him go up to the bar by himself?"

"Again..." Dean growled. "Grown man."

"Yeah, yeah, sorry." Richard patted Dean's arm then wrapped his long fingers around his cup. "He's usually good about staying clear of the hard stuff, but maybe what you told him buggered him up. No pun intended."

"A fucking Irishman who can't handle his whiskey? Crikey dick! Can that even happen?"

"Ironic, yeah. Jimmy always gives him the piss about it, too. But Aidan is Aidan, never seems to ruffle him much. Think you'll speak to him about it... you and I, not the whiskey?"

Dean fished his fork around in his salad. "Guess I'll see if he brings it up. So are you and I, you know... all right about everything? Not gonna be awkward I hope."

Huffing out a breath, Richard smiled wide. "You didn't even know who I was, Dean. It's history… ancient history."

"Yeah, that was pretty rude of me. I suppose I shouldn't be worried about Aidan's drinking when I slept with you and had no idea who you were, not even when you introduced yourself to me here."

"I don't think we even exchanged names, did we? It was a dark time for me so who bloody knows what else or who else I did." Richard laughed in an uncomfortable way then looked down at his plate.

"I never would have thought that about you."

Richard shrugged. "I'm exaggerating a little I think. But I did straighten up after that. Anonymous sex is not my thing. Do you want to know how I recognized you?"

"If you say because of my height I'll kick you in the shin." Dean narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips in the toughest look he could muster. Richard just laughed again.

"Your dimples. Pretty sure that's why I dragged you to my room that night too. I remember wanting to stick my tongue in them."

Dean's face heated up but he managed a smirk. "And I'm assuming you did."

With a waggle of his eyebrows, Richard leaned closer to Dean. "And all sorts of other places, as well."

"Hey! Stop talking about it."

"Why? Does it embarrass you or turn you on?"

"Bastard."

"Dean O'Gorman, as I live and breath, have I made you blush?"

"You're my uncle for Crikey sakes." Dean couldn't hold his frown. "As long as we can be friends it's fine."

Richard bowed his head, bright eyes beaming up at Dean through dark lashes. "It would be my honor, sister-son."

Dean shook his head then dug into his meal. The whole cast was whack and he was happy to fit right in.

+*+*+*+

After begging someone from craft services and even going as far as using his dimples for leverage, Dean knocked on Aidan's trailer door with a container of soup clutched in his hand. Aidan didn't answer right away and Dean wondered if he might be asleep considering how crappy he must be feeling. He'd just decided to let him be when the door swung open.

"Hey, Aid," he said. "I'm not even gonna ask you how you're feeling because you look like shite, man."

Aidan's attempt at a smile failed and he waved a hand at Dean. "Thanks a lot. Come in or go away, the light's too damn bright out here." He ducked back inside and Dean followed.

"I brought you some soup. I think it's more of a cold remedy than hangover thing, but I didn't think whiskey was a good alternative."

Aidan groaned as he passed through the tiny kitchen then threw himself haphazardly down on his bed. "Don't even say the word, mate. I don't remember having any but my body is telling me entirely the opposite." He slid a hand through his curls that, to Dean's silent delight, were sticking up this way, that way and every way in between. There were dark circles under his eyes and his lips looked redder than usual. 

"Been sick to your stomach all day?"

"Just now and again. Starting to feel human just in time for bed."

Dean nodded and watched him stretch his long, lithe body before curling up in a fetal position, hands tucked between his knees and face pressed into the pillow. "Wanna try the soup?"

Aidan lifted his head. "Maybe in a bit. I'm surprised you still want to be seen with me after last night. Right fucked up I must have been."

Dean tried not to grin. "It happens, and you were kind of cute, in between spilling beer all over the both of us."

"I thought my clothes were a little more rank than usual."

"Think I have to burn mine but they'll go up very quickly once I light the match." That pulled a deep chuckle from Aidan, and made Dean think about how much he liked the sound. "What time did Peter send you back?"

Aidan groaned as he pulled himself to a sitting position. "Only about an hour in, after I ran outside to throw up."

"Nasty. You didn't miss much, same old, same old. Gonna be back in shape by tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah. I've slept most of the day, the time I haven't been in the bloody loo at least." He paused, a shy smile flicking up the corner of his mouth. "I appreciate the soup, mate. I'll heat it up later. You want something to drink?"

"Whiskey?"

"Don't make me hurt you, dude."

With a laugh, Dean pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against. "I won't stay. Let you get yourself better."

"So you really slept with Richard?"

"Oh, you do remember some things from last night?"

"Definitely remember that. Also think you might have said it wasn't recent?" Aidan's looked up sheepishly at Dean.

"Years back… just a hook-up really. It's cool between Richard and I though. What about you and me?"

Aidan dipped his head while he crossed his legs beneath him. He looked like a little boy who needed a hug after a hard day. Dean wasn't sure squeezing Aidan was a good idea though so he held himself back. 

"Think you and he will hook up again?"

Dean shook his head without a heartbeat of consideration. There was no attraction between him and Richard. He was hot and sweet and Dean hoped they'd strike up a lasting friendship, but romantic-wise there were no sparks. "We're friends, nothing else."

"He's a good guy."

"No arguments here. You need anything else before I totter off?"

Aidan shook his head shyly. "Naw. Wanna grab a coffee in the morning before camp?"

"Sounds awesome. Maybe you'll even be back to eating form by then."

"I know, right? Take a picture because you might never see that happen again."

Dean nodded, images of Aidan posing for him filling his head. He was sure he could get some amazing shots. "I just might do that."

"What?" Aidan pushed himself off the bed, his dark grey robe gaping open to reveal tiny black boxer briefs. Dean tried not to stare

"Uh, take a picture. I do that, you know um... take a lot of pictures."

"Yeah, yeah. I read... I mean heard that but I was only kidding." Aidan looked down at his robe, pulling it closed and tying the belt. Dean thought he saw a little uncertainty in his deep, dark eyes.

Dean grinned as Aidan walked beside him to the door. "Want me to wait until you've prettied yourself up again, don't ya?"

Aidan groaned and shoved a hand through his knotted curls. "Bet I'm quite the sight."

"You're still hot dwarf worthy. So I'll pop by to get you in the morning?"

"Good idea to get me before Peter decides to kill me."

"Can't kill Kili. That wouldn't be _grammatically_ correct."

Aidan wrinkled his brow, bloodshot eyes squinting like he was looking into a very painful light. "What? Grammatically…"

"I'll tell you tomorrow." Dean grinned, squeezed Aidan's shoulder then walked the extra few feet to the door.

"Thanks again for the soup. Guess I'll see you tomorrow, then, yeah?" 

Dean waved a hand behind his head, the fingers of his other hand circling the doorknob. He turned back when Aidan called out. 

"Hey, Dean? You still like me after last night then?"

"Like a fungus, Aid. Like a bloody fungus."

+*+*+*+ FIN +*+*+*+


End file.
